Poem: Jericho

It’s spnapo and wetsammy 's birthday, so how about some wet Sam?Your brother is a spoil of warlost at the end of a ghost roadand the origin of anotherwhere spies have died for lessand worse, than a ten-mile stretch of hellor California. Look at him.

He was gone.He was a ghost once, four long beatsof breakneck grief.When you break in you wonderwill it rain, will it pour will it burstor will you. That's your heart.

Your brother is covered in mud,laughs like a thing you don't believe inbut your mother did; your brother is wetwith the wash of the river, hotwith the tears of the saved, cleanas the water that never stopped what you carried him out of. Look at him.